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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29511921">Of White Lillies and Valentines</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackyJango/pseuds/JackyJango'>JackyJango</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Love Shack By The Ocean [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety, Charles Xavier Needs a Hug, Coda, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Erik is a Sweetheart, Fluff, Genosha, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-X-Men: Dark Phoenix (2019), Protective Erik Lehnsherr, Romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 02:48:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,378</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29511921</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackyJango/pseuds/JackyJango</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik has already left when Charles wakes up the next day. In his place is a note that reads,</p>
<p>
  <i>Sorry that I had to leave early. I was needed for a council meeting.<br/>There’s breakfast on the table and tea on the stove.<br/>I’ll try to make up to you in the evening.<br/>Yours,<br/>Erik</i>
</p>
<p>Charles traces the last two lines with his fingers and smiles to himself.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Love Shack By The Ocean [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2182008</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>120</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>X-Men X-Traordinaire's Cherik Valentine's Day Exchange</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Of White Lillies and Valentines</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/librata/gifts">librata</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Basically, I just wanted to recreate this scene in Genosha, that's all. That and all the angst and fluff! :D<br/>Plus, Charles has his intact in this AU (Sorry not sorry that I can't part with his hair)<br/></p>
<p>Written for Librata's promt:<br/>"After Paris, Charles takes Erik up on his offer and relocates to Genosha with him. Retirement, of course, does not come naturally to Charles Xavier, and after decades of constant work, he finds the adjustment phase difficult.<br/>Luckily, Erik is there to help him through.<br/>I love the idea of them struggling to find their balance and harmony on Genosha. I imagine that Charles is in pain/struggling to come to terms with things, and that he and Erik have to relearn how to be together."</p>
<p>I did steer away a little (insert: a lot) form the prompt, but this was written with a lot of love, so I hope you like this Librata! :D</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>        Charles has never been a heavy sleeper to begin with— he never could sleep peacefully with the plethora of voices whispering in his head— and he barely even sleeps these days. If he’s able to shut his eyes for a few hours every night then it’s only because of the warmth and safety that Erik’s mind and body around him provide.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the absence of that warmth and safety, Charles wakes up with a jolt in the middle of the night in a cold bed. His mind seeks out Erik’s presence of its own violation, lashing out in every direction of their little shack. Charles, however, needn’t go far, for Erik is hunched over a stack of papers spread out on the table a few feet away from their bed. The low light above him heightens the contrast of his angled face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Erik’s right here. He isn’t alone. He isn’t alone</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Charles repeats it like a mantra in his head until his racing heart calms down. ‘What are you doing this late, Erik?’ he asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Oh.’ Erik looks up at Charles in surprise, ‘I was looking over something.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘This is the third night this week that you’re hunched over those papers. What are those anyways?’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘It’s nothing.’ Erik waves him off too quickly for Charles’ liking. ‘Just a few blueprints I needed to look over. This shouldn’t take long. Go back to sleep. I’ll join you in a few minutes.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles could always glean what he’s working on from Erik’s mind, but he has neither the interest nor the patience for it. All he needs is Erik right now, so he holds out his hand towards Erik and drawls, ‘No... come back now. You know I can’t sleep without you.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Erik chuckles under his breath at Charles’ petulance, gathers the prints around him and sets them aside on the table. ‘We can’t have you pouting, now. Can we?’ he says, walking over to their bed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Panic drains out of Charles completely as Erik takes him into his arms and pulls the covers over them. ‘I wasn’t pouting,’ he protests even as he nuzzles his face further into Erik’s neck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Is this okay for you, your highness?’ Erik chides fondly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘No, hold me tighter.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Erik presses a kiss to his hair and strengthens his hold around Charles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Perfect.’ Charles smiles softly before slipping into Erik’s mind and falling asleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Erik has already left when Charles wakes up the next day. In his place is a note that reads,</span>
</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>Sorry that I had to leave early. I was needed for a council meeting.</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>There’s breakfast on the table and tea on the stove.</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>I’ll try to make up to you in the evening.</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>Yours,</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>Erik</span>
    </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>Charles traces the last two lines with his fingers and smiles to himself. </p>
<p>
  <span>As promised, there are sandwiches from their community canteen on the table and tea in the kettle on the stove. Charles finishes them without much thought, gets ready and heads to the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Plantation</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The </span>
  <em>
    <span>Plantation </span>
  </em>
  <span>is a small greenhouse a few kilometres away from their home and overlooking the beach. Charles had first stumbled upon it while looking to purchase a few vases and planters for their home, and kept coming back after that. The owner of the place, Helena is a friendly woman in her seventies, but the place is cared for and looked after by her grand daughter, Cecelia, a young and vibrant girl who’s barely out of her teens. Charles had become fast friends with both of them. Helena had mentioned that she could use another pair of hands with the coral replanting project she had been meaning to start and Charles had jumped up on the offer. It provided him a distraction from his thoughts and something to keep him occupied while Erik worked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘We’d need a few more tanks to set up the new coral beds,’ Charles tells Cecelia as he pours plankton into a brine tank.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘You got it, Porf,’ Cecelia says from where she’s re-soiling a snake plant. ‘I’ll send Mort to pick up some more.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘You can stop calling me that, you know. I’m not a Professor anymore.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘It suits you.’ Cecelia shrugs, and asks hesitantly, ‘If I may ask, why aren’t you a Professor anymore?’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles’ breath quickens at her question. What could he say- that his children don’t want him anymore? That he’s not fit to guide his children anymore? That he pushed his children to the verge of death with his bare hands? It matters little what he wants to say. The truth simply remains that he isn’t a teacher anymore-- if he even was one to begin with. That fact alone pricks needles into Charles’ heart. Swallowing a lump in his throat, Charles says, ‘It’s a long story.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cecelia accepts his answer with an understanding nod, but her line of questioning doesn’t stop there. ‘Is it true that you ran your own school in the mainland?’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Yes, I did.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Awesome!’ Cecelia says with a broad smile and an enthusiasm only a twenty-year-old could muster. ‘I bet it was quite an experience.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘It was.’ Charles smiles tightly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Your students were a lucky bunch then.’ Cecelia’s smile turns wistful. ‘I wish I too had a school to attend, you know.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘What do you mean you wished you had a school to attend? Didn’t you get schooled here in Genosha?’ Charles asks, confused and a little surprised.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘I got homeschooled here in Genosha, just like half of the kids here are. The other half of the kids are not so lucky though. They’re either abandoned or dropped off here by their human parents, and they go all their lives without proper education. I just wish we all had a fair chance and a proper school here where children could actually learn math, science, history and stuff, you know.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles hums in reply-- or for a lack of thereof. Strange, he thinks now. Of all the buildings and places Erik had shown him around, a school wasn’t one of them. How could he have missed it?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘But, hey,’ Cecelia says, pointing the trowel in her hand at him. ‘Magneto makes sure we all get trained together with our powers though. That counts for something right?’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘I hope so,’ Charles sighs, stirring the brine broth. He makes a point to speak to Erik about the school when he gets home. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The thoughts of the school, however, fly right out of his head as he immerses himself in the task of setting up the coral beds. The sun is almost down by the time he gets home, buoyed on the joy of a day productively spent. Charles is so deeply submerged in his own thoughts that he almost misses Erik’s presence in their kitchen-- and the heavenly smell of whatever is cooking on the stove wafting through the entire shack. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘What are you doing here this early?’ Charles asks, surprised. Erik isn’t the first one to reach home, and rarely this early.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Why, Charles, you almost sound disappointed to see me.’ Erik smirks. He wipes his hands on a kitchen towel and walks over to press a kiss to Charles’ forehead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles leans greedily into the warmth of Erik’s lips and his mind. Stepping into Erik’s bright mind is like stepping into a hot bath after a long day’s work. Charles sighs contentedly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Come,’ Erik says, straightening and leading Charles to their balcony. ‘I hope you’re hungry.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Famished, actually,’ Charles admits, smiling sheepishly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That smile, however, falls right off his face when he reaches the balcony. Set against the backdrop of the ocean glittering under the orangish pink sky of dusk is a table and a chair at one end, complete with a tablecloth, a fresh bouquet of white lilies in the centre, an ice bucket with a bottle of sparkling water, and cutlery on either end of the table. The whole scene looks straight out of a fairy tale.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Erik, what is all this?’ Charles asks with a hung jaw.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Erik chuckles in lieu of an answer and wheels Charles to the end of the table that is devoid of a chair. ‘This is just dinner, Charles,’ he bends to whisper into Charles’ ear before pressing a kiss to the back of Charles’ head. Charles’ full-bodied shiver has nothing to do with the rapidly cooling breeze of dusk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A warmth spreads inside Charles as Erik sits opposite him and takes his hand over the table. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They spend the rest of the evening like that- gazing into each other’s eyes and lost in each other’s company. The food is delicious, and it's a refreshing change to eat a meal cooked by Erik after months of living off of the food from the canteen (Not for the first time Charles thinks that Erik would have made an excellent chef in another life). As the dusk creeps into the night, the full moon rises with an assortment of stars around it. Erik brings out a few candles onto the table and lights them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles finishes off his plate of banoffee pie exhilarated over the fact that Erik had added an extra load of sugar to appease Charles’ sweet tooth. ‘Thank you for the lovely dinner, Erik,’ Charles says, ‘And as delicious as the food was. I still don’t get what the occasion is.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Well, I had a promise to uphold.’ Erik smiles and rubs the back of neck sheepishly. ‘Plus, the kids in the training arena were saying something about today being Valentine’s Day and all, and I just thought…’ </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A warmth colours Charles’ face and soothes his heart. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Thank you, my love</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he sends to Erik mentally bundled with the intensity of his love and affection. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘There’s something else,’ Erik says, and holds out his hand. What appears to be a thick roll of papers tied in a red ribbon fly in from somewhere in the house into Erik’s reach. Erik gets up from his chair and walks up to Charles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Here,’ he says, crouching in front of Charles on a knee and holding out the roll. ‘For you.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘What is this?’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Open it and see, Charles.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles does. From the outside, the papers look suspiciously similar to the plans Erik had been working on the previous night-- or the three nights before it-- and on the inside are a few blueprints lining out several rooms, split into three levels. It still doesn’t make any sense. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Erik, I don’t understand.’ Charles says, flipping through the other pages as though he might find answers there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘See the top corner,’ Erik says, pointing to the right-hand corner of the blueprint. Written in black ink in a small box is the name of the Project: Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles’ heart skips a beat, and he stares at the small lettering on the paper for a long time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he doesn’t reply, Erik gently pries the papers held in Charles’ death grip and interlocks his fingers with Charles’. ‘There’s no proper school for the children on this island, Charles. There are hundreds of mutant kids who go without proper education or guidance. Mutant kids, who are the future of this nation. And there’s no one else I can think of or trust to shape the future of this nation than you. Of course, I haven’t decided the place for the school yet, or any other details. I thought we could go through it together.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Erik looks at him expectantly, Charles has nothing in the form of a reply, except for the fact that he simply cannot. He simply cannot involve himself in a school again. He cannot guide or lead a young bunch of mutants again. He simply cannot watch his children get hurt again. He cannot… He is not… His eyes fill with tears, his breath catches in his throat, and a panic grips his heart before he even completes that thought. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He must have projected all of it to Erik, for Erik rises to his feet and hugs Charles tightly. Charles can’t help hiding his face in the thin fabric of Erik’s Hanley as he struggles to swallow the sobs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Hey, it’s alright,’ Erik says, squeezing his arms around Charles’ shoulders. ‘You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I understand, Charles.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The angle is awkward, and the night is getting increasingly cold around them. And yet they stay like that, hugging each other in the tender moonlight until Erik picks Charles up and heads into the house. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Any other night they would have played a game of chess before bed, or made out like teenagers until midnight; especially after a night like this, spent gazing into each other’s eyes. But tonight Charles can’t help burrow into the sheets when Erik lowers him into the bed. He curses his fickle moods and self doubts for splashing water on the heat of a lovely evening. But it’s too late for regrets now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles reaches out for Erik when the latter slips into the bed, and hides his head in the crook of Erik’s neck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Good night, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Schatz</span>
  </em>
  <span>,’ Erik says with a small smile, pressing a lingering kiss into Charles’ hair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Erik,’ Charles says softly, ‘I’m sorry I ruined our evening.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘You didn’t ruin anything, Charles. But I want to remember one thing, okay? You’re the kindest, bravest and the most selfless man I know. I couldn’t have asked for a greater leader to stand with me by my side.’ </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that’s the unfair part, Charles thinks. How could he believe Erik when he knows that he’s being selfish by putting his feelings and fears above the future of mutant children; children who have lost homes, families and hopes. But when Erik is holding him safely in his arms and sending waves of assurance his way, Charles can learn to believe everything Erik says. ‘Can I take some time to decide about the school?’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles doesn’t see Erik smile, but feels it in the kiss Erik presses to his head. ‘Of course. As long as you need.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Thank you for the lovely night, Erik,’ Charles says nuzzling further into Erik’s hold, and whispers, ‘I’m glad you’re by my side. I’m glad you’re my valentine.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Erik only holds him tighter in response before Charles falls asleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading! :D<br/>Please let me know what you thought!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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